Rough Waters (9 page)

I wish I could unhinge him right now and take
him back to the house just to hang around in my bedroom. I’d touch
up his paint job and give him a new sparkle. He’d be the prettiest
blue seahorse the ocean has ever seen.

A.J. straddles the orange octopus on the
carousel, and I swear, this is exactly where we were last summer.
He rests his forehead against a metal tentacle.

“Is it just me or is everything falling
apart?” he asks.

“Everything is definitely falling apart,” I
say. I hate admitting that.

“First, Colby’s parents show up and ruin his
life, and that in turn ruins
my
life because now Colby
doesn’t need us to hide him. I’m going to have to get a real job or
something, and there’s not a damn person around here who’d hire
me,” A.J. says.

I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t stop it
from escaping my mouth. You’d think keeping Colby’s secret would’ve
been a lot tougher than a day job, but I guess you get the perks of
sleeping in, making your own schedule, and hanging out at the beach
all day. Who needs health insurance and a 401K anyhow?

“Don’t worry. I know it’s selfish,” he says.
“But that’s what I’ve done for three years now. I’m a high school
dropout with no chance in hell of making something of myself. He’s
been my cash flow. Now I’m fucked like the rest of society.”

Watching his sacred grounds get demolished
probably doesn’t help any. The city would’ve torn this place down
eventually anyway, but I wish they could’ve waited until after this
whole Colby Taylor/Drenaline Surf issue was resolved for the
better.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets
better,” I say, turning away from the carousel seahorse and looking
directly at A.J. “I haven’t told Vin about the lawsuit yet. I
haven’t really talked to him about anything really.”

A.J. nods. “I wasn’t going to say anything,”
he says. He pushes himself up from the octopus. “Are you okay? I
know he’s basically shut everyone out. Topher’s been bitching about
it for the past two months.”

I shrug. I’m not really sure how I feel about
it. Yes, it bothers me, and at times it completely pisses me off,
but I’m sort of numb to it all. It’s almost like a dream that I
woke up from long ago and have put behind me. I make excuses for
him, just as he feeds me excuses and lies, but I do it so people
will stop asking questions. Vin does it because…he doesn’t know how
to walk away? I’d take a break up speech over silence any day. I
just wish he’d communicate.

“So I take it he’s not going tonight?” A.J.
asks, hopping off of the carousel.

I follow him and take his hand to jump down.
“Jace’s band’s gig? No, he said he probably wouldn’t make it, so
that’s a definite no,” I say.

“You’re still going, right?” A.J. asks.

“At this point, I don’t even know,” I tell
him. And that’s the honest truth.

I fall back onto my bed as Topher begs
through my cell phone yet again. I understand that he doesn’t want
to be a third wheel to Emily and Miles. I get that it’s boring if
you don’t have someone to hang out with. I completely grasp that
his life sucks because his brother’s being an ass and he isn’t
sponsored by Drenaline Surf. But that still doesn’t make me want to
go tonight.

Staying right here in bed sounds like the
best plan. I could sleep away the worries of what will happen once
Colby’s parents file a lawsuit. I could dream about the life I
wanted in Crescent Cove rather than thinking about my absent
boyfriend and my best friend’s destroyed sacred ground. Yeah, sleep
is the better option.

“Are you even listening to me?” Topher
asks.

“I hear you,” I say. No offense to Jace or
his band Sapphires and Sunsets. I just don’t have any desire to go.
“I’ll be there,” I tell Topher.

A.J. laughs from the end of my bed once I end
the call. He leans back on his elbows and watches as I make my way
to my semi-full closet. I still have so much to unpack.

“I thought you were determined not to go,” he
says. “What did Topher say that was so convincing?”

I grab a pair of dark jeans and a pink tank
top. Then I change my mind and grab the blue tank instead. If I
have to go to this thing, I don’t plan on looking glamorous. It’s
Jace’s band’s gig at some restaurant-slash-bar. It’s not an
orchestra.

“It’s easier to just suck it up and go than
it is to listen to Topher whine about it all night,” I say, which
is the truth.

And I might just want the distraction. I’m
sure Jace’s band can drown out my stresses better than sleep can.
Reality can seep into your brain and result in nightmares. A band
gig can just make your head pound. Luckily I’ve heard Sapphires and
Sunsets before, and they don’t suck.

“Too casual?” I ask, holding up the tank top.
I should drag Alston in here. A.J. knows nothing about fashion.

“I don’t know,” A.J. says, confirming the
thought that I need to get Alston. “I mean, I guess it’s fine, you
know?”

No, A.J., I don’t know. I stick both articles
of clothing into the closet. I wish I’d been to Toledo’s Bistro and
Lounge before. It doesn’t matter if you’re only there for the band.
I don’t want to look like I’m going to Taco Bell when it’s really a
five-star restaurant.

“What’s the vibe like there?” I ask. “Is it a
sit-down sort of place? More casual? Is it more beer and loud music
or a Sex and The City kind of bar?”

“Fuck,” A.J. says. “I’ve never been there.
Does it even matter? I’m wearing what I have on.”

If A.J. wants to rock cargo shorts and a
T-shirt, that’s perfectly fine. I grab my cell phone and text in
reinforcements. Alston makes it from his bedroom in the condo and
into the guest house in under two minutes.

“I wondered how long it’d take for a fashion
emergency now that we have a chick in the house,” Alston says. “So,
what’s the crisis?”

A.J. makes himself comfortable on my bed,
stretching out and most likely filling my bed with sand from his
flip flops. He ignores Alston’s question and busies himself with
snooping through my cell phone.

“I don’t know what to wear tonight,” I say.
“I’ve never been to Toledo’s, and I don’t know how dressy or casual
to go.”

Alston pushes both arms through the air,
making sure to clear the space around him. “Step aside,” he says.
“Leave this to a professional.”

With that, the diva steps into my closet,
digs through my clothes, and pulls out a little black dress with
shimmers of silver. I bought it the day after the Drenaline Surf
sale at Lorelei’s Second Stop, the thrift store just outside of the
cove.

“This,” Alston says, holding up the dress.
“It’s sexy, flirty, the whole deal. It’s the kind of dress that
says you’re there to have fun.”

I shake my head, grab the dress, and hang it
back in the closet. “No, not this one. I’m saving it for something
else,” I say.

“And what exactly are you saving too short
and too sparkly for?” Alston asks.

Wasn’t he the one who was just advocating for
this dress? I ignore his question and walk over to the nightstand.
I pull out the small drawer and take the envelope from inside.

“This was with the dress when I bought it,” I
say, motioning Alston over.

A.J. eases over so I can sit next to him on
the bed. He squeezes in close so he can read over my shoulder.
Alston comes over to the bedside and leans in.

The note actually freaked me out at first. I
was determined not to buy a typical little black dress when I
walked into the thrift store, but it was a perfect fit. I don’t
care what Alston says. It’s not too short, and you can never have
too many sparkles. It’s the kind of dress you celebrate in, which
is exactly what I bought it for.

“This came with the dress?” Alston asks, as
if it wasn’t clear enough.

I nod my head. “Yep. When I went to pay for
it, the girl who owns the place – Lorelei – said she had to give me
a note from the previous owner.”

Dear Awesome Girl Who Brought This
Dress,

I assume you have to be awesome since you
bought it, right? I loved this dress. I only wore it once. I
actually bought it right here at this same store. But then I went
out with my boyfriend and his friend and some random girl the
friend picked up, and we crashed a yacht club party. My boyfriend’s
sort of well-known, and luckily, we were able to avoid anyone
catching our act on camera. So it’s with my deepest regrets that I
had to return this dress. I didn’t want it to be the one thing that
gave us away after getting by with such an awesome stunt. So here’s
what I ask of you, awesome new dress owner – whatever you do in
this dress, DO IT BIG. Because, you know, the dress sort of expects
it. I’m counting on you!

Love, A

“That’s one hell of a cryptic note,” A.J.
says as I tuck it back into the envelope. “So are you saving the
dress for when something big happens? So you can do it big for
A?”

“Something like that,” I say, getting up and
making my way back to the closet because I’ve yet to secure an
outfit to wear to Toledo’s.

I grab the dark jeans and a black tank top
that shimmers. It’s close enough to the dress without being overly
dressed. With my relationship with Vin on the rocks, I don’t want
anyone asking questions. I’d rather keep a casual vibe than “flirty
and sexy” as Alston said.

After forcing the boys out of my room so I
can get ready, I question my decision to go. I promised Topher. I
wouldn’t mind seeing Sapphires and Sunsets play again. I’ve never
been to Toledo’s Bistro and Lounge, and I might as well get to know
the local spots if I’m officially a Crescent Cove resident.

Still, I know the Hooligans will be there.
Jace will have a perfect view of me from the stage. And everyone
will question why I’m there hanging out with Topher instead of his
older brother aka my boyfriend. I feel nauseated that the little
black dress of A’s is what I plan to wear when we celebrate
Topher’s future sponsorship. Whoever “A” is just handed me a
scarlet letter because there’s no way tonight can end well.

Crescent Cove is bigger than I ever realized.
Apparently, there is life beyond Drenaline Surf, The Strip, and
Colby’s pier. Topher drives, but we’re in my car because it has
more room than his truck. And A.J.’s vehicle just isn’t reliable in
any way whatsoever.

We pass the purple sign that reads Azalea
Living Center. A.J. mumbles something from the backseat. I’m not
sure what he said, but my guess is that it’s regarding Lickety
Split. I wonder what his real name is. I wish A.J. could go visit
him. Maybe if he went in armed with a classic carnival funnel cake,
it’d help him ease in. If nothing else, he could say goodbye.

The further we drive away from the tourist
attractions, the more I want to just take a week to explore this
city. With every new street, it’s like finding a hidden passageway
or uncovering another buried treasure chest. I want to breathe in
Crescent Cove entirely.

The city lights up around us in a
downtown-like area. Topher says the college campus is a few blocks
over. This is where the night life happens. The streetlights cast
orange glows on the sidewalks, but the deep orange sunset paints
the entire street. I love this time of the day – dark enough for
all the lights to come on but still light enough to see everything
clearly.

A.J. points out a tattoo shop with the
outside walls painted in zebra stripes. He says he got his dragon
tattoo there. A cupcake shop is next door to the tattoo parlor, a
bit out of sequence, and a Mexican restaurant sits on the
corner.

“And that’s Café Jezza,” Topher says,
pointing to a fancy sleek building with decorative sconces. A crowd
of people wait outside. “It’s a super expensive Italian place. Best
food in the Cove. You pretty much have to have reservations ahead
of time.”

“You’ve been?” I ask. Then I regret it. I
hope he doesn’t assume anything by it.

Topher nods. “Joe took us out there to
celebrate when Shark built Drenaline Surf. We went the night of the
groundbreaking. Shark, Joe, Vin, me, Jace, Theo, and Reed.”

“Reed?” I question. I thought Reed’s
friendship with Topher was a recent development. Maybe he went
because of Vin, although I can’t imagine why Reed would’ve hung out
with Vin back in those days.

“Yeah,” Topher says, looking away. “It was a
long time ago. Things changed.”

A.J. changes the subject before the
awkwardness has too long to linger and contaminate the air. He says
he never comes into this part of town, that everyone thinks they’re
better because they’re rich or actually in college, and then he
says something about ice cubes…?

Topher pulls into a parking lot and says
we’ll have to walk the rest of the way. I’m amazed we even found a
parking place. Everyone is out on the town tonight.

“Is it always this busy around here on week
nights?” I ask as we get out of the car.

A.J. laughs. “What did I tell you last
summer? You’re in California. The party never stops on the west
coast.”

Topher checks his phone and says we’re going
to meet up with Miles and Emily before we head over to Toledo’s
Bistro and Lounge. We walk a short block downtown and pass a
graffiti painted wall that says
Never Apologize For Your
Art.
Another tattoo shop is around the corner from the
painting. I think A.J. should memorize that phrase. People look
down on his tats, but I think they give him character. They fit
him.

Emily and Miles wait outside of Ace’s, an
expensive steakhouse that A.J. says he’s never seen the inside of.
The outside wall has a constant waterfall flowing down the side.
Neon blue light-up barracudas serve as décor, popping out away from
the water.

As we follow Drenaline Surf’s favorite couple
around the building, I see the pelican statues perched over the
entrance of Ace’s. Guilt fills me inside. I brought my metal
pelican from the attic with me. He’s still buried in the trunk of
my car. This is the first time I’ve even thought about him being in
there. I make a mental note to take him out and put him somewhere
special when we get home tonight.